Slytherin Trinity
by Azaelynn
Summary: Dying at the hands of his family, Harry is rescued by his enemy, and soon, many secrets are revealed, including the fact that he has a father, but the three of them are a part of a greater destiny known as the Slytherin Trinity. HPTR, RLDM, SLASH
1. Chapter 0Prologue

SLYTHERIN TRINITY

LADY SHINIGAMI

DISCLAIMER: DUH.

CHAPTER 0- PROPLOGUE

The tale about to be told is a tale of strife, of suffering, of horrible pain and loss. But it is also a tale of joy, of love, of discovery and hope.  
There are three of us in particular that have suffered greatly, but we have gained so much more. We have become a family, which is more than I could have ever hoped for in my lifetime, and against such incredible odds.  
The past two years have been incredible, and entirely unexpected, and I don't believe that any of us would wish to take it all away, to go back to the way everything was.  
But enough! I promised you a story, didn't I?  
Well, here it is, and as I sit here, writing this down, my family is joining me, to reminisce over the wonderful memories that we created out of the fires of despair and change, memories that started two years ago today.  
There are three of us, but we were never alone.  
To most, my name is Harry Potter, and I am of the Slytherin Trinity.

A/N: This is a re-write of one of my oldest, if not the oldest, story that I have written. I think this version is better.


	2. Chapter 1

SLYTHERIN TRINITY

LADY SHINIGAMI

DISCLAIMER: DUH.

CHAPTER 1- PAIN, SECRETS AND DISCOVERY

Harry looked up into the darkening sky, warily eyeing the black storm clouds that thundered ominously and lit up the night skies with bright flashes of electric blue lightning.

Fear began to rise inside as the lightning came closer, and, futilely, he struggled, trying to ignore the excruciating pain as he aggravated his bleeding wrists.

A loud clap of thunder right above him made him jump and he yelped; the sound drowned out as the rain, cold and fast, started to fall. Harry shivered violently as the wind picked up, but he knew he would rather be where he was, in the raging storm, than be inside the house at the cruel 'mercy' of his relatives.

_'Speak of the devil and he shall come,'_ was Harry's thought as Vernon Dursley ambled out of the house, coming for him, undoubtedly, and through the bitter, harsh rain, Harry could hear his uncle's gleeful laughter. He shrank away with fear.

His fat uncle was carrying something, like a short pole, or a metal rod; Harry could see its silhouette from the light of the house, and a dreadful, sinking feeling started in the pit of his empty, starved stomach. It was very doubtful that he was going to live past this horrible night. He closed his eyes and he braced himself, and he prayed that it would end quickly.

"Boy! I've got just what you deserve, and you're gonna get it tonight!" Vernon's horrifying, and drunk, voice.

God didn't answer his prayers. He never did.

Vernon put a ladder in place beside the tree before cutting the bonds that had kept Harry tied to it, and the teen wizard fell weakly to his knees. He didn't have the strength to even try and get away. Laughing, his uncle looped some strong, thick rope around one of the thick branches of the tree before tying Harry's wrists together.

Harry's eyes opened wide as the fat man heaved on the other end of the thickly woven cord, bringing Harry to his feet in a rush, and pulling his limbs out of joint, dislocating both of his shoulders. There was no holding back his ragged scream.

Vernon just laughed some more, his manic, beady little eyes gleaming. He pulled on the rope until Harry was just barely able to touch the sodden earth below with his toes.

Without another word, the fat man grabbed the metal rod he had brought out from the house and with no hesitation; he swung the pipe, connecting with Harry's rib cage. Hearing the bones crunch, he swung continuously, breaking as many bones as he could, listening to Harry's pathetic screams of agony.

Breathing heavily, Vernon dropped the pipe, grinning. "Now, boy... just what you deserve." Harry barely heard his uncle, but he certainly felt panic as thick fingers tore away at the remains of his tattered, dirtied, bloodied cloths. He struggled futilely, ignoring the pain in his entire body, but he froze as his leg brushed up against his uncle's gorged member.

_'No, no, nononono... anything but that!'_

Jolt after jolt of sharp, white-hot searing pain flooded through Harry's weak and exhausted being and he screamed, the roaring thunder overhead drowning out his feeble, broken cries.

Vernon finished up quickly and headed for his nice, dry house when lightning struck down from the sky, striking the tree behind him. He turned and watched, surprised but giddy as lightning coursed through his wretched nephew's body, dancing across the skin, searing through his broken body as it searched for the earth below. What a fantastic light show, and the boy was a good lay. Then the lightning stopped, as quickly as it had come, and Vernon was back inside the house. He'd check if the boy was dead tomorrow. Thank God for the high fences, or the neighbors would start talking.

Moments after the fat man had entered the house, there was a pop and a tall figure in black robes stood in the yard, and with a startled gasp, a pale hand reached out slowly. He knew Harry was still alive, if only just barely hanging on by a thread. He removed his wand from within his robes, and he severed the bonds that held Harry to the sizzling tree, catching the boy as he fell. At the moment, there was nothing he could do about the pain, but he removed his cloak and he wrapped it around the pale, broken body of the Boy Who Lived.

Clutching the teen to his chest (he weighed nothing! He still looked like a child!), and with a wave of his wand, he carved a short message into the dead tree.

He looked down at the teen in his arms, tenderly tracing the jaw line, and he knew he could no longer hate the boy, for all he had been through. An instant later, he Aparated away with Harry in his arms.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, in the dungeons of a lakeside castle, a wizard stood in front of a wall cabinet full of potions, with a list in his hands. He wasn't happy about inventory, but, for once, Severus Snape, Potions Master wasn't scowling or glaring. What a shocker.

He sighed as he realized that he would need more burn slaves and boil creams and other such antidotes and remedies for the upcoming first years. He considered just upping the number of the different potions he had on hand for accidents and their side effects. He made a note of it on his list and moved on.

As inventory was as natural to him as breathing was, his mind began to wander aimlessly. Since the Department of Mysteries incident, Voldemort had been quiet. The Dark Mark didn't burn, not even so much as a little twitch. But, as it always happened when he thought of the Dark Lord, his thoughts turned to Harry Potter.

Severus scowled. Harry bloody Potter. He knew from Occlumency lessons last year that the boy had never been treated well in his home, and in the last two months Severus had seen the boy, before school had let out for summer break, something had been different about him.

Potter had gotten slightly paler, thinner, like he wasn't eating, and he had grown about a foot in height, becoming nearly as tall as the Weasley boy. And, while the color of his eyes was still the same as ever, that vivid green, the shape of those eyes, barely noticed behind those horrid glasses, the shape had seemed... different. More like Lily's eyes. Harry Potter was no longer a carbon copy of James Potter.

Still didn't excuse the boy's intrusion into his Pensieve, although Dumbledore claimed the blame for that, and had explained that the boy hadn't known it was wrong. All right, he could accept that.

Potter's fifth year had been an angry one, and had reminded Severus of himself at that age, which had angered him further. He had done everything in his power to punish the boy for everything he could think of, even sabotaging Potter's potions, which was wrong of him, he knew, as the boy actually had a great deal of talent in the art of Potions making, though the talent was still unrefined, as displayed in the boy's OWL. Very surprising.

Still didn't change the fact that he didn't like the Potter brat.

Severus continued with his inventory just as Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace, grave and somber. Frowning, Severus set aside his list and came into the Headmaster's view.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, sir?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, Harry Potter has been kidnapped. I need you to go to the Dursley residence while I go the Ministry to inform them. I need you to go right away, please."

Severus nodded. "Of course."

Dumbledore vanished from the fireplace, but the Potions Master was already well out of the dungeons, shoving open the great oak doors leading out of the castle a few minutes later.

However, an owl caught him just before he reached the aparation point, holding a yellowed letter out to Severus. He paused, removing the letter fro the owl's leg, thanking it as he was slipping the letter into his robes, promising to deal with it later.

He arrived at 4 Privet Drive in the darkness of a raging storm. Instinct told him something was desperately wrong.

He slipped around the side of the house, trying to avoid any contact or confrontation with the wretched muggles who lived inside. He hated dealing with muggles, and these were the worst kind.

In the backyard, Severus was on high alert. Something was very wrong. Even through the relentless rain, the stench of blood, fear, and most recently, sex was there in the small yard, with a smoking, steaming tree in the center. The air was charged, as it happened when lightning struck.

Severus moved closer to the tree, and the smell of burnt, electrified flesh and hair was strong, though not nearly as strong as the stench of blood. Blood was on the tree, and on the ground, and with a spell, he determined that blood was Potter's. Severus frowned. Just what had happened to the boy?

"Some of this blood is weeks old," he said quietly to the charged air, muttering to himself. He scanned the immediate surrounding area. A metal pipe with a jagged edge on the sodden earth, the rain quickly washing away what was undoubtedly Potter's blood. Thick rope, burnt, but cut cleanly as if to release its captive.

And, carved into the tree itself, a message.

_Your protection has failed him, Dumbledore.  
The boy's life is now mine,  
And this war will end with your death, not his.  
I will protect him where you have failed.  
LV_

Severus understood entirely. The boy was being severely abused in this muggle household, and no one had known. He, himself, had been horribly wrong. Potter wasn't pampered, he knew that, or even treated decently, although, if the boy had been left under his care, he would have been. And now, the boy had been rescued by his enemy.

There were rags on the ground, soaked through with blood, and Severus guessed that they were, undoubtedly, the bare remnants of Harry's clothes, horribly oversized. Furious, the Potions Master picked up the metal pipe and stormed towards the Dursley household. Someone would answer for this outrageous and infuriating development, and someone was going to be in some serious pain for this!

He slammed open the door, the glass cracking in his wake as he startled the damned muggles. He knew he presented a fearful sight; soaked, his black hair hung raggedly in his pale face, his onyx eyes gleaming furiously as he stood tall with all of his imperious height.

Sitting at the table before him were three muggles; a stick thin woman, he barely recognized as Lily's sister, a teenaged... whale of a child, and a fat pig of a muggle glaring outrageously at his entrance, sputtering with startled anger.

"Wha-! You-! Your kind is not welcome here!"

Severus ignored the man. "What have you done to him?" His raised voice surprised him, but what the hell.

"What are you talking about? Get out of here!" Dursley started to stand, but paused as Severus advanced on him.

"Harry Potter! What did you do to him!"

"Nothing that the little demon didn't deserve!" Dursley shouted back at him, unaware of the coming danger. Severus paused, and a deadly air formed around him.

"Demon. You seriously believe that the boy is a demon, and thus, worthy of abuse, neglect, torture and rape. He should be a child, but he already bears a heavy burden. That boy is the only person protecting your world from conquest and destruction. Why would you do something so ridiculously stupid?" His voice was now quiet, calm, his tone dangerous.

"He's a freak, and he deserved it, with all of his funny business disrupting our normal household; and we never wanted him anyway! He was just left on our doorstep!" Dursley was getting red in the face. "He deserved everything he got, and I don't regret anything I did to him!"

"Avada Kedavra." Severus turned away from the muggle he just killed, facing the wife and child. Both stared at him, terror in their wide, frightened eyes.

"Answer me. How long has the abuse been going on?"

Petunia fumbled for words. "All- all of his life. We make him do everything we say."

"He never had clothes of his own, he has always been too small for his age, and you made him your personal house elf. He is a human being! Did you do nothing to stop the abuse?" The remaining Dursleys cringed and shrank back from Severus' quiet, deadly manner.

"Avada Kedavra." The son fell dead. Severus looked Petunia directly in the eyes.

"You are Lily's sister. She was brutally murdered trying to save her family and you have killed her son. Why?"

The last Dursley could only fumble for words, but there was a hatred in her eyes, a distinct loathing that Severus recognized; it was that same hate and loathing that he himself had shared with James Potter, and had shared with the recently deceased Sirius Black.

"He shares your blood. He is your family, and you don't even care, not one bit." Severus said quietly, in complete disbelief.

Petunia jumped to her feet. "Of course not! He was a freak, just as she was! I always hated her! Always so much better than the rest of us! She deserved what she got, and so did that ungrateful brat!"

Severus' onyx eyes narrowed dangerously. "Lily Potter was my best friend before she was murdered, and she was the most caring witch I have ever had the honor of knowing, helping others no matter who they were, and her son was exactly the same, saving those who needed his help, fighting evil everyday, facing death and corruption, yet remaining as pure as he can. You are truly pathetic. Avada Kedavra." Petunia fell dead and Severus turned away, eyeing a padlocked cupboard. A shiver went down his spine.

Inside the cupboard was an old cot, a ratty thin blanket, and a Hogwarts school trunk with a very active protection charm, as well as an empty owl cage. He felt a twinge of sadness. The boy's owl had been a beautiful owl.

Shrinking the boy's things, Severus did a once over of the house, finding more of Harry's meager possessions under one of the floorboards in one of the small bedrooms. Birthday cards, letters, a beautiful photo album, an enchanted two-way mirror, and his Invisibility cloak. Severus packed them away and Disaparated from the cookie-cutter neighborhood and the deaths he'd caused without remorse.

Dumbledore met him as he came onto the grounds leading up to the castle. The old wizard appeared older than he did, and there was no twinkle in his damnable blue eyes.

"Well?"

"The Dark Lord has the boy, and he has vowed to protect him where you have failed." Severus said, and Dumbledore was confused.

"The boy was severely abused in that house, Albus, nearly to the point of death, from what I could gather. I am under the impression that the Dark Lord saved him, and will not be harmed. Also, the muggles responsible for Potter's abuse are dead." Severus watched as Dumbledore took the information and was surprised that the Headmaster was taking it rather well, almost too well.

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, Severus. I shall inform the Order about this."

"Sir, what about Potter?"

"What about him?"

"He was taken by the Dark Lord, not killed. I believe he is still alive, and we may be able to rescue him."

"Well, if you happen to find out of his whereabouts, then we may have a chance of saving him," Dumbledore didn't sound hopeful at all. "But until you do, I will have to assume the worst."

Severus watched, stunned, as Dumbledore walked away from him. Since when did Dumbledore not care about his Golden Boy? What had happened in the last four weeks since Black's death and the Department of Mysteries incident that could have changed Dumbledore's opinion of the boy?

Bemused, Severus went inside the castle and down into his chambers, collapsing in his favorite chair in front of the fire. It was at this time that he remembered the letter he had received before his startling and disturbing discoveries. With a frown, he removed the letter from his robes, and he stared at it. Who would send him a letter?

Then he smelled a fragrance that shocked him; a fragrance he hadn't smelled in nearly sixteen years; a fragrance that sent shivers down his spine as old memories emerged, memories that he buried deep within his mind.

"Lily... this can't be..."

Slowly, Severus opened the letter, noticing that the letter itself was a bit yellowed, as though written years ago. Lily's perfect handwriting was now faded ink on parchment. Severus could almost smell her perfume, could almost hear her laughter as he slowly her last words to him.

_Sev, my Dearest friend,  
When you received this letter, I will be dead almost fifteen years.  
James and I have already gone into hiding, but I don't believe it'll Protect us, even as I sit here writing this.  
This is my final goodbye, Severus, and because you have always been my Good friend, I ask that you listen to my story. I had hoped to spare you,  
But I fear that I will never get another chance.  
Eight months before my son Harry was born, there was a Deatheater raid, and several women were kidnapped, raped and left to die. Not even James knows what I'm about to tell you, but you, dear friend, you need to know.  
I was one of the women kidnapped, and you were there, Severus. I know that you didn't want to do to harm anyone, but I know that Voldemort forced you to do what you did to me.  
Here's why you didn't know that it was I; all the women had been put under Glamours, and were gagged. You couldn't have known whom you were forced to rape.  
But Sev, my dearest friend, my best friend, I don't blame you, nor do I hate you. No one knows about that night; not James, not Dumbledore. Remus may have a suspicion, because of his heightened sense of smell, but not even he cannot guess that Harry, born a month premature, is your son, with your family name. His true name is Rhaegal Snape, Sev.  
I love James, you know that, but this would have broken his heart. Yes, he would have loved Harry as his own, like he does now, but it wouldn't have been the same.  
Don't blame yourself, Sev, because I don't blame you. Just, please, take care of our son, and keep him far away from my sister and her family, please. They are the worst kind of muggles in every sense, to every extreme.  
Don't let our son die there.  
Sev, you have always been my best friend, and you will remain my best, and dearest friend. I love you, Sev, like the brother I never had.  
Your loving friend,  
Lily._

Tears coursed down Severus' pale face, splashing down on the last remnant of his best friend, Lily. He remembered that horrible night long ago; he had kept apologizing for what he had been forced to do. Lily had been his best and only friend since their fourth year at Hogwarts to the day she and Potter had been murdered. And he had failed in her last request.

"I was too late..." Suddenly, all of the recent changes he'd noticed in the boy made sense. Lily must have created a charm to change the boy's appearance on the molecular level, magically altering the appearance of his DNA. That was the only possible explanation, as there was no charm, spell, or potion that could alter appearances for more than a few hours, and Lily had certainly been clever enough to come up with something to last fifteen years.

But, he had been far too late. About everything. He had forgotten that the boy was Lily's son, focusing instead on his anger towards James. He had made too many mistakes, and even though the boy was still alive, there was no way that he, Severus Snape, could be a father figure to anyone, let alone his own son.

He was startled from his thoughts as the Dark Mark on his left arm started to burn. Not viciously, but enough to let him know that the Dark Lord wished to see him.

With a small ray of hope, Severus had a feeling, a gut instinct about what Voldemort wanted from him. He rushed to his Potions cabinet, and with care, he stored away as many healing potions, restorative draughts, and other potions designed to aid and repair the body, into a satchel designed to carry such potions before leaving his chambers, Lily's letter once again inside his robes.

Once past the wards, he Aparated into the graveyard of Riddle House, noting that it was not raining here. A quick drying charm and he was on his way up to the manor house, his satchel hidden in his billowing robes.

Opening the large oak door, Severus caught sight of the Dark Lord waiting for him in the main foyer. For a moment, he was startled by the dark wizard's appearance. Vastly different from the snake-faced monster, Voldemort stood tall and regal; complete with pale, flawless skin, luxurious black hair, sleek and cut short, almost spiky, and those piercing crimson eyes, the slitted pupils very much like a snake's.

Catching sight of Severus, the Dark Lord smiled and ushered the Potions Master forward. Severus closed the door behind him and closed the distance between them, wary.

"No need to be so cautious, Severus. I just need your help with an important matter. Follow me." Voldemort led him to a bedroom on the third floor, opening the door to reveal Harry Potter on the bed, broken and bruised, barely clinging to life. His breathing was ragged and just looking at him caused Severus to wince with sympathy.

"I was able to heal some of his wounds, bringing him from fatal to critical, but that was all I was able to do. Can you save him?" Voldemort asked, and Severus nodded, removing his potions satchel from within his robes. He approached the bed removing a pale blue vial from the satchel.

"This will heal his respiratory system," he explained, rubbing Harry's injured throat gingerly to force him to swallow. "And this will start healing the most severe of his injuries." He said, drawing forth a crimson potion.

"This will take a while, won't it?"

"Yes, my Lord. A few weeks, at least."

For a few minutes, Harry's ragged breathing, evening out, was the only sound in the room. Severus emptied his Potions satchel, arranging the different potions in silence. Voldemort watched him as he worked, but every so often, his crimson gaze would flicker to the prone wizard on the bed, and his eyes would seem... softer, almost.

"I know you're a traitor. I've been aware for some time now."

Severus paused. "Am I supposed to know what to say to that?" he asked, turning to look at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort chuckled. "I guess not. Why did you come when I called? I could easily kill you at any moment."

Severus sat down in a chair at Harry's bedside, pondering his reply. "I know you wouldn't hesitate to kill me, but I knew you had the boy, and I couldn't allow him to die."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow in question. "Oh?"

The Potions Master nodded. "Yes. Due to very recent information, I have come to realize a great many things. He is my responsibility, one I do not regret or begrudge, as requested by his mother."

Voldemort took a seat opposite Severus, his curiosity clearly visible in his expression. "Really? This I have to hear. Oh, and I have no intention of actually killing you, so feel free to elaborate."

Severus shrugged. "Fine. But first, what has changed? With you, I mean?"

"Fair enough. All right, I'll trust you with this. Today is the boy's 16th birthday, is it not?" At Severus' nod, Voldemort smiled, leaning back in his seat. "Well, something has happened, and it started with his scar. I created a connection between us all those many years ago, insane as I was. He could see through my eyes, but until very recently, I was unaware that the connection went both ways. After the disaster at the Ministry, I kept feeling such a profound feeling of sorrow and despair, but also resolution. Soon after, I felt pain, not my own, but growing as time went by. But... tonight was the worst. For the first time, I had a vision. A vision that restored my humanity, my sanity."

"What was this vision?"

Voldemort sighed. "A raven-haired angel, bound at the wrists to a tree. The wings were translucent, like they weren't real, but bloodied, just like the angel, with lost feathers. Broken and bleeding, this angel cried tears of blood as he was cruelly violated, suffering the ultimate suffering, and crying out for salvation."

"Do you know who this angel was?" Severus asked.

"Of course. He's healing right here," The Dark Lord gestured to Harry, whose breathing was almost returned to normal. "And I have a feeling that his wings will reveal themselves once his body can cope with it. Anyway, after this vision, something happened to me."

Standing, Voldemort removed his thick cloak, and black leathery wings, like those of a bat, or of a demon, ripped through his tunic. Severus was stunned, and he stared, completely bewildered.

"You see, now that I am completely sane, I can see that he is the light to my darkness. Without my sanity, I was unable to distinguish the very fine line between love and hate. From the moment we first fought, five years ago, when I first saw his eyes, glowing with emotion and power, alight with such fiery emotion, I had fallen for him. I believe I love him." Voldemort smiled.


	3. Chapter 2

SLYTHERIN TRINITY

LADY SHINIGAMI

DISCLAIMER: DUH

CHAPTER 2

"Excuse me?"

"Your hearing is fine, Severus. I love Harry Potter. It's crazy, I know, but for the first time if fifty years, I am sane, and I see clearly." Voldemort grinned, and his grin wasn't maniacal, but... normal.

"This seems genuine; the wings are proof of that, but the boy may not believe you. You've been his enemy for all of his life," Severus said, finding his voice of reason. "What's to say that he'll even want you?"

"True, but I'll work on that. Not sure how, or even what I mean by that, but time will tell. Now Severus, it's your turn to share." His grin grew as Severus heaved a small sigh.

"Yes... well. Lately, whenever I saw Potter at the school, I noticed several changes about him. He is no longer a carbon copy of James Potter, and he hasn't been for some time. Almost everyone who meets him sees James, and they, myself included, forget about his mother Lily. She was my best friend in school, starting our fourth year. I was supposed to tutor her in Potions while she helped me with Charms. No one could hate Lily, and soon we became friends. Soon, we couldn't keep anything from the other, and I even helped her hook up with James. She knew everything about me."

Severus stirred in his seat, reaching for a potion that would heal the remainder of Harry's bruises. "You remember that raid in which several women were kidnapped?" Voldemort cringed and nodded, and Severus removed the life-changing letter that Lily Potter had written to him. He silently gave the letter to the Dark Lord to read for himself.

A few minutes later, Voldemort returned the letter to Severus, glancing at Harry. He shrugged. "Well, that does explain the boy's Slytherin side."

"That's all you have to say?"

Voldemort nodded. "Yes. I could ask what you mean to do, now that the truth is revealed."

"Well, the answer to that is obvious," Severus said hotly. "I will do as Lily has asked of me, and I will take care of my son. I have been wrong about a great many things, and I have behaved in a ludicrous manner, especially where the boy was concerned. Due to this much needed, and greatly appreciated reminder from Lily, I can clearly see the error of my ways."

Voldemort smiled. "And I wonder how our Slytherin-minded Gryffindor will react to all this. It's mind-boggling, really. I mean, first the insane dark wizard, who's been after his life for a long time, saved his life, and I don't wish to kill him anymore, either, but off topic, and secondly, his Potions Master is, in all truth, his father. What is Harry going to think? Or, should I say 'Rhaegal'?"

Severus shook his head. "No. While Rhaegal Snape is his true name, he will remain as Harry Potter until he can accept his true parentage. And to think, even in her last letter to me, Lily still maintained to me that I am her friend. She doesn't blame me for what happened on that raid."

"Then she was a good friend. By the way, does Dumbledore know about any of this?" Voldemort asked.

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. "No. In fact, he seems content to assume that the boy is dead, until I can prove otherwise. His usual concern for his Golden Boy is lacking, it seems."

Voldemort stared laughing quietly. He calmed down at the Potions Master's questioning glare. "That fool is truly an idiot, and he must have heard something to change his mind about the boy. Old age must addling his mind, and it's about bloody time!"

Both wizards froze as a soft chuckle was heard. Glancing at the prone teen, they saw a ghost of a smile on his face, although Harry was trying to hide it.

"How long do you think he's been awake?"

"Oh, I'd say long enough, Severus."

"He should be out cold, in a healing coma. The potions I gave him were laced with sleeping draughts." Severus stared at Harry, perplexed.

"Then you should know that I've become immune to sleeping draughts, and thus they wake me up, if anything. And I heard everything." Harry's words were faint, but clear. "I'm very open-minded about everything since my near-death experience, sir."

"You shouldn't talk; your vocal cords were nearly destroyed, and haven't yet had nearly enough time to heal," Severus said, as he started rubbing a thick potion on Harry's injured throat.

"So when has that ever stopped me?"

Severus shrugged. "Good point. Nonetheless, you shouldn't bee talking now, and don't you even think of moving from that bed for at least the next couple of weeks, am I understood?"

"Ah, the momma bear in action," Voldemort said fondly, laughing as the other two wizards in the room glared at him, the looks identical. "Your glares are the same, you know. It doesn't help the effect." He smirked, as the twin looks darkened.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Different topic; what happens now?"

"I don't know."

"Thanks, tips. That was very helpful."

"Okay, enough. Harry, you will rest and recover from your injuries, and that means absolutely no moving from that bed unless I say otherwise. My Lord, you may do whatever you please, of course. I will go back to the castle soon, where I shall report to Dumbledore that you are very much alive, Harry, and depending on his reaction and possible orders, Voldemort and I can discuss where we can go from there. And no objections, Harry!" Severus said, cutting off the teen's protest nearly before it started. Voldemort smiled as the youngest wizard of the three of them glowered indignantly.

"Now, now, little one, such a look does not become you, and Severus, I believe that you should be going. I'll make certain that Harry gets all the rest he needs." At the Potions Master's dubious expression, the Dark Lord smiled. "You can trust me. Or at least give me a chance to prove my restored sanity."

Severus regarded him for a moment, glancing at Harry before nodding once. "All right. I will be back in a few days. There should be enough potions to last at least a week, and use only what is necessary," he paused, and removed Lily's letter from his robes. He set the yellowed parchment on the bedside table that stood next to Harry's bed. "Get some sleep; you need it. When you wake up, you may this."

Then he was gone, his black robes trailing behind him like a bat.

"I must learn how he does that, there's a spell to it, I'm sure," Voldemort said in an off-hand way. Harry smiled briefly. "But enough of that. You do need your sleep, so you might as well. I'll be right here should you need anything, so trust me."

Harry nodded, thinking about how charming Voldemort could be, but he couldn't move any further. He yawned suddenly, eyelids drooping as his body finally shut down. He relaxed completely as sleep overcame him. Voldemort smiled fondly as he marveled at the sudden innocence that graced the teen's features.

"Good night, little one, and... sweet dreams." The Dark Lord extinguished the candles, sending the room into almost complete darkness, illuminated only by the light of the moon dancing through the open window.

* * *

Severus' footsteps echoed harshly in the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office. The sounds made him almost nervous, but he hid it well. He was uneasy about facing the powerful wizard, his unease stemming from the knowledge of his son's health, the changed Dark Lord, and the major changes to his life as of recently. Absently, he kept his barriers up, keeping his mind, and it's secrets, hidden behind a wall of icy fire.

No one could get past his mental barriers.

Releasing a stiff breath, pausing at the stone gargoyle guardian leading to Dumbledore's office, Severus uttered the password, and climbed the stairs two at a time.

"Oh, hello, Severus. I wasn't expecting you." Dumbledore said as a greeting. "What brings you here at this late hour?"

"I have confirmed that Potter is safe in the Dark Lord's presence, in Riddle Manor. The Dark Lord has not harmed the boy any further than he already is, and wishes for me to heal the boy."

"And why would that be?"

"Potter was severely abused in that muggle household, almost to the point of death! I told you this! In fact, those muggles were happy, proud even, to have caused Potter so much agony, just because the boy is a wizard!" Severus exclaimed, his emotions getting the better of him. "Why don't you care?"

Dumbledore looked at him a moment, his demeanor suddenly colder, his gaze thoughtful. "This is a war, Severus. I have figured out a way to end it without the boy. I do not have time to worry over every single student that attends this school, despite their problems outside of this school. I don't need him anymore."

He left Severus standing there, perfectly calm as he retreated to a private room within the depths of his office. After a moment to compose himself, the Potions Master left the Headmaster's office, his trust in the old wizard shattered. As he made his way down to his dungeon chambers, he longed to see his son again, but it was far too soon, and he would have to wait, at least for a few days.

Inside his rooms, he collapsed into his favorite chair by the fire and summoned a bottle of the strongest Firewhiskey he had, intent on drinking himself into oblivion, at least for a day or so. He sighed, wondering how Harry was doing. He raised the bottle to his lips and drank.

* * *

Severus came to as someone was helping him out of his favorite chair. His head throbbed and ached, and every movement caused his stomach to lurch. He did not recall exactly how much he had had to drink the night before, nor did he have any idea as to how much time had passed since he'd passed out. He groaned as his memories slowly returned to him.

"Come on; let's get you cleaned up," said a quiet voice, a voice very familiar to Severus. "Then if you want to talk, we'll talk." It was a silent order.

"I'm fine, werewolf," he retorted, but his aching head betrayed him as it throbbed with every word, causing him to groan. Again.

"A shower will do you good, Severus, and no, you're not fine." Remus Lupin gently but firmly led him into the bathroom. Severus was in no mood to resist.

Remus gently helped Severus into the shower, knowing that the slightly cool water would help to sober the man. He briefly wondered what had caused Severus' bout of drinking the previous night. It must have been something big for the Potions Master to drink himself completely shit-faced.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Severus slumped down into a corner of the shower, the water cascading down his pale white skin. He sighed as he folded the other wizard's clothes. Severus' scent had been a little worrisome and slightly disturbing; his Lycan sense of smell had picked up Harry's scent- and his blood- all over the Potions Master, along with Voldemort's scent. He desperately wanted to ask Severus about his cub, but he knew he would have to wait.

Severus sobered quickly beneath the water, and he had caught the worried look on the werewolf's face, knowing exactly what the problem was. Slowly, as his pounding headache receded, he stood up, facing Remus with no sense of modesty.

"You're worried about Harry, right?"

His question seemed to startle the Lycan. Remus nodded quickly. "Yes. He's hurt; I can smell it on you."

"And you've probably scented the Dark Lord as well. I'll explain all I know when I have some clean clothes." Remus took the hint as it was and passed a towel and a bathrobe to him as he turned off the shower.

Remus retreated to the living room, taking a seat by the dying fire, stoking it to life again as he waited patiently for Severus to be done.

Fortunately, he didn't have long to wait and Severus came and sat opposite of Remus, staring into the fire as he tried to figure out how to begin. After a moment, he sighed.

"Remus, Harry is my son."

Remus blinked. "Excuse me?"

Severus fidgeted, slightly nervous and flustered. "There was a raid years ago, and I was forced to... but Lily, she understood, and wrote to me, explaining it all, and... Harry is my son. After I found out, I discovered that the boy has been abused by his muggle relatives, almost to death, and had been rescued by the Dark Lord."

Remus was really surprised about that. "Really? Do you know why?"

"Voldemort had a vision that restored his sanity, and now he claims to love Harry; that the lines love and hate had been greatly blurred during his insanity, but that he now sees clearly." It was clear that Severus didn't know what to think about this... revelation.

"And what of Harry?"

"He's doing well, considering. Almost seems too easy the way he's accepting things. I believe he said his near-death experience was enlightening, or something of the sort." Severus shrugged.

"And what drove you to drink yourself pissed?"

Severus snorted with derision, a sardonic smirk marring his features. "That fool Dumbledore. He doesn't care about Harry anymore; doesn't think he's important at all. Claimed him as good as dead when I reported that he was missing from his relatives' home. Said he found a way around the Prophecy and that he didn't need Harry anymore. Dumbledore tossed my son to the side." He glowered darkly into the fire.

The wolf raged within him as Remus fought to control his anger. Harry was a member of his pack, his family, the wolf said, the cub of the pack, the most valued member. Harry was nearly all that remained of his pack, which had already been decimated with the deaths of Lily, James, and now, Sirius. There wasn't much left of pack, and Remus was damned if he was going to let anything happen to his pup.

His amber eyes glowed eerily. "Can I see my cub?"

Severus glanced at him sharply, wanting to shy away from those wolfish amber eyes. "Your 'cub'?" He asked slowly.

Remus nodded. "Yes. The wolf believes Harry is the cub of my small pack, and I agree. I suppose that you are now my pack brother. You can even be the Alpha male. The wolf isn't interested."

Severus didn't know what to think. "I don't know what to say, Remus. I guess... it's an honor, thank you."

"Can I see my cub?"

The Potions Master nodded quickly. "I hadn't planned on going back for another couple of days, but I can take you to Harry whenever you would like, I suppose."

Remus shrugged, stoking the fire a bit. "Whenever. But first, do you plan on revealing Harry's true parentage?"

"No, not yet," Severus said immediately. "Perhaps when Harry accepts his true name, but we shall see with time. Also, there is something else you should probably know about Voldemort. Along with his vision and restored sanity, the Dark Lord now has black wings, like those of a fallen angel, which he keeps concealed beneath a thick cloak."

Remus leaned back in his chair, a pensive look settling on his face. "Again, that's interesting. Well, if you don't plan on revealing Harry's parentage any time soon, perhaps we can come up with something for him. Is he changing physically?"

"Yes. He's taller, maybe as tall as me now; he's leaner, not just from the abuse and malnutrition, and his face is changing. The shape of his eyes is shifting a bit, and his facial structure is sharper, more angular. He has Lily's nose, fortunately." Severus slumped further into his seat, looking annoyed. "What are you planning?"

Remus shook his head. "Nothing yet."

"Yet?"

"I'll have to see him first, before I can come up with any definite course of action. Does he look more like Lily now? Sounds like it a bit."

Severus gave a small, small smile. "Yes, he looks quite a lot like his mother now. He's firmly broken away from being James' 'miniature clone'."

Remus snorted, amber eyes dancing a bit. "Good, because Harry was always too small. Also, it might give me an idea for a suitable cover."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Well, we could say that Harry is finally growing into the wizard he is. He was supposed to have a growth spurt soon, anyhow. He could simply claim that he only growing into his features, including his mother's features, which would make sense anyway." Remus paused, glancing at the Potions Master across from him. "Can we go see him now?"

Severus sighed and stood from his chair. "Of course. Just allow me to grab an extra set of work robes. The Dark Lord has an impressive Potions lab, and I will not ignore my calling just because of the situation."

Remus chuckled, standing as well. "Of course."

Severus was gone from the room and back again in moments, quickly tossing in a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace, calling out, "Riddle Manor!" before disappearing into the emerald flames. Remus followed his lead, leaving the rooms they'd just left in silence.


	4. Chapter 3

SLYTHERIN TRINITY

LADY SHINIGAMI

DISCLAIMER: DUH.

CHAPTER 3

Voldemort was suddenly very glad that he'd already keyed the Floo system in his home to allow those in Harry's trust. Tricky bit of magic, but not impossible. He was, however, startled as the Potions Master and werewolf stumbled gracefully from his library fireplace. His wand was out immediately, his wings poised for attack, but he backed down as he recognized the intruders.

Quickly, he regained his composure. "Severus, what a pleasant surprise. And you brought a guest! Remus Lupin, am I correct?" he asked in a smooth, confident manner.

Amber eyes locked with his own crimson orbs, and Voldemort could see several emotions flickering through that wolfish gaze. A great deal of caution, worry and distrust waged war in the Lycan's mind.

Severus stepped forward. "Sir, I have chosen to inform Lupin of the situation, and he wishes to see Harry. How is he doing?"

Voldemort smiled tenderly. "He's doing fine, Severus, Lupin, considering. He woke up briefly about twenty minutes ago, needing another pain potion, after which, he was sleeping again. His breathing sounds just about normal now."

"Where is he? Where is my cub?"

Voldemort raised a slender eyebrow nearly to the hairline. "Your 'cub'? So the little one is a part of your pack, then?" Remus nodded, still wary of the Dark Lord.

"Well, while the wolf in you sees the little one as the pack's cub, the serpent in me sees Harry as my Life-Mate." Remus nearly bristled visibly, imaginary hackles raised, and Severus nearly growled like a great predator cat. Voldemort chuckled softly.

"That's only if he accepts me."

Both wizards calmed down visibly and Voldemort walked out of the library, expecting and fully knowing that the other two would follow him.

He realized, absently, that the night of the full moon was fast approaching, a few days away, which was probably why the werewolf was so on edge... well, more on edge than the situation called for.

Reaching Harry's room, Voldemort grabbed the door handle and paused, glancing back at the Lycan barely a step behind him. "You can probably already smell the blood and the pain in this room, even though the blood is gone, and we are doing our best to stop the pain. I must warn you; it's much worse inside. Do not panic, or rage, or I will be forced to lock you away in the dungeons beneath the Manor until the full moon passes." It was clearly a threat.

A threat the wolf in Remus wisely decided was a serious threat that would probably get him killed if he chose not to heed it.

Remus nodded, awed by the power the Dark Lord had, and also awed by the creature between himself and the door to Harry's room. Somehow, the Dark Lord seemed more intimidating with his human form and black wings than he had been as the serpentine monster.

Voldemort opened the door and Remus had to fight the urge to gag on the scents that saturated his best friend's son. He could still smell the rape that had nearly broken Harry; he could still smell the blood and rain on his body, despite that the actual liquids he scented had long since been gone. His moon-heightened senses easily picked up on Harry's distress, his fear, even though the young man lay peacefully asleep.

Remus marveled at how the sleeping wizard before him had changed physically, as well. While sill overly thin, far too thin, Harry had grown several inches in height, his scrawny frame now lean and sinewy with hidden muscle. His hair had lengthened a bit, framing his face better, and his facial structure was sharper, more angled.

"He looks a lot more like you, Severus." His voice was low, trying not to wake Harry. He moved to his bedside, sitting on the edge as he took the younger wizard's hand in his. "Oh, Harry. Why is it always you?"

Voldemort spoke up quietly. "Because he is who he is. He lives with complete honesty and modesty, pure and with an unusual amount of compassion despite his past experiences that should have at least jaded him, and that is why he was chosen for Fate's twisted entertainment."

Harry stirred in his sleep, waking slowly as his subconscious sensed the others in the room. He blinked his eyes, sleep still clouding him, and he smiled as he recognized Remus.

"Hey, Moony..."

"Oh, Little Lightning, what have you gotten yourself into THIS time?"

Harry snickered quietly. "Just the usual, Moony; and this time, I didn't even try to find trouble."

"I know, cub, trouble finds you," Remus replied softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a hundred Bludgers developed a grudge at the same time."

Voldemort winced. "That imagery hurt, little one. How are you really feeling?"

Harry sat up a little with a small yawn. "Sore. Most of the pain's gone, probably from the potions. I'm breathing better, and I'm able to move a bit more. I'm doing better, but it's going to be slow."

"That's good, then. You just take it easy, and I'll see if the wolf can't make Voldie here obey your every whim." Remus smirked, then laughed at the Dark Lord's indignant squawk. "But really, kiddo, don't push yourself. Take it easy."

Harry nodded. "Okay, Moony. It's good to see you."

"You too, kiddo."

Severus approached the pair, grabbing a vial from the bedside table. "Harry, drink this. It will help to bring back your energy." He passed the potion to Harry, who drank it obediently. "You get some more rest. Read the letter, if you're ready."

Harry nodded, picking up the letter from the bedside table, and the three older wizards left the room, convening in the library, and settling into different chairs around the fireplace. Remus observed the two Slytherins carefully.

Severus was greatly distraught about recent events; he could see that, like everything had changed too quickly, which was probably the case. The Potions Master didn't seem to know what to make of the Dark Lord either, only seeing that the Dark wizard was completely honest in his words, actions and intentions concerning his son. But as to what those intentions were, neither Severus nor Remus could figure out.

Voldemort, on the other hand, was the most surprising in regard to the recent events. Remus had obviously seen the Dark Lord's human self, intrigued by the transformation and awed by the wings. Remus had only met the Dark Lord once before, years ago in a battle, and he observed the different, more... peaceful look in the Dark wizard's crimson eyes. It truly appeared that Voldemort's sanity HAD returned, which cleared a lot of things up. But was the Dark Lord still eager to go to war, and if so, what would Harry do, now that he owed the other wizard a life debt.

If Voldemort did continue the war, would he change anything in considering his goals? Remus considered this as the three of them continued to watch each other, each deep in thought.

Severus' thoughts were of a similar nature, but focused more on Harry, now that he knew the boy was his son. He knew that the boy was bound to break down soon, probably soon after he was healed physically. He truly wished to know his son's feelings, so that he may be able to start forgiving himself, but only if Harry forgave him.

He also wondered what Voldemort planned to do and why, both with regards to his son and with the war. He wanted to get back at Dumbledore for abandoning Harry, and himself, in a way, but he was unsure as to what he should, and could, do about it. Severus let out a small sigh, breaking the silence that had settled in the room.

"Care to share your thoughts, Severus?" The Dark Lord asked, raising one slender black eyebrow in question.

The Potions Master shook his head. "No, not particularly."

"I suppose not," Remus joined in. "But perhaps we should be looking for and discussing the answer to a very important question, or rather, several questions."

"And those questions are what, exactly?"

"Well, a few questions, really, with more formulating as I speak. What do we do now? How do we go about it, and what about the war?"

Voldemort nodded. "Excellent questions, Lupin. I believe I can answer the third question. I will continue my war, but the reason behind it has changed. I've realized that the muggles continue to save and develop our race as wizards. It seems that muggleborn children are just as powerful, if not more so, than Pureblooded children. I will fight this war until Dumbledore is dead. He is my enemy. He has betrayed the wrong wizard, and I will not allow for Harry to be hurt again." He smirked. "This war is not to be about blood; it is about betrayal."

"Well said," Remus said quietly. "But how, exactly, are you going to conduct this war? Will you change anything in your attack plans? Who are you going to target? What will happen to Severus and myself, now that we know of your goals and ideals? What about Harry? There are these questions and more that you must consider and answer."

Severus blinked, the only indication of his astonishment. He had always known that the werewolf had been the brain behind the Marauders, but he hadn't truly realized that Remus really was a genius, thinking of all the considerations, planning things five steps ahead in as many different ways.

A low chuckle brought him back to the present and he stared at Voldemort as the Dark Lord allowed the chuckled to explode into full-bodied laughter. He and Remus exchanged furtive glances, but neither of them had a clue, nor did they say anything.

The Dark Lord got himself under control, tears of amusement leaking from his crimson eyes. He was still chuckling as he composed himself. He straightened in his chair, still grinning as his gaze swept over them.

"Mr. Lupin, would you ever consider working for me? If I had more people like you, I would have won the first time around. I was doomed to fail from the beginning." He said, highly amused at the astonished look currently settled on Remus' features.

"Mr. Lupin, I promise you, for Harry's sake, that neither of you will come to any harm under my authority. My target is Dumbledore, and only Dumbledore. He has gone too far and I will not stand for it any further, and I intend to keep Harry safe. If he so chooses to fight in my war, I will do my best to protect him, even if he chooses to side with the old coot. I have decided to treat this war like a corporate take over: striking only when and where it is necessary. My methods will changes according to Harry's wishes, but if he's being ridiculous, I'll ignore him in that respect, and only to a point. I will stress that Harry is my main priority, my main concern. He has become more important to me than life itself." His smile became very tender and gentle. "I believe I would do anything for him."

"For Harry?" Remus had to ask, just to be sure.

Voldemort nodded, leaning back. "Yes. He is extraordinarily strong, not only magically, but emotionally as well. Nothing can stand up to his will, his determination, his very heart. He has been through so much, the vast majority of his suffering is my fault, but he pulls through stronger than ever. Physically, he is unique; nearly completely unblemished from his pain, and his features are rare, too. How many witches or wizards do you come across with eyes that green? Not even Lily Evans Potter was so blessed with a shade that green. He looks so young, to make anyone protective, to stir that parental instinct that exists in every being, but he exudes an air of gentle, but strong power, and he gains trust so easily. He is one of a kind, someone to be appreciated and cherished as the special person that he is. He will change the world, and it's peoples, and for the better." His voice trailed off, but the emotion and truth to his words still there, hanging in the air. His eyes had partially glazed over, and Severus had to wonder what was going on in the Dark Lord's mind. He decided he didn't want to know.

It was obvious the Dark wizard had fallen for his son, and had fallen pretty damn hard. Remus had a small smile on his lips, probably having to smell the emotion seeping from the Dark Lord's declaration.

Voldemort suddenly stood from his chair and brushed invisible crumbs away from his robes. "You'll both have to excuse me; I'll be with Harry. Stay or go, do whatever it is you wish; I don't care. Good evening to you both." Then he was gone, leaving the Potions Master and the werewolf alone in his personal library.

The two men exchanged looks. "Well, that was interesting."

"Indeed."

"Not a word of this to Dumbledore."

"Agreed."

* * *

He was asleep, and this time, that sleep was peaceful, and quiet. That was good. Voldemort reached out and lightly traced the scar he had created all those years ago. The gesture brought a smile to Harry's lips.

The Dark Lord sat on the edge of the bed, his thick cloak removed to allow his wings some freedom. He watched as Harry slept in his Potion-induced sleep, ever watchful of the boy's inner demons and nightmares.

Voldemort knew the boy would crash soon, the shock of his ordeals, and of the revelations made recently would catch up to him, overwhelming him. But he, and the others, would be there when it happened.

A small whimper brought his attention back to Harry. The boy's face lost its peace, his brow furrowing with lines, and his mouth turned into a grimace.

"Oh, Harry, even in sleep, you are plagued." He moved closer, lightly caressing Harry's cheek. He leaned in and placed a feather-soft kiss on his scar, and was relieved when Harry calmed at his touch. "Sleep well, little one. I'll protect you from your demons."

"But you are one of my demons," Voldemort didn't show it, but his heart had lurched into his throat.

"What woke you up this time?"

Harry kept his eyes closed. "You touched me, but it was nice."

"I see. Please forgive me for disrupting your sleep, little one." He moved back a bit, putting some distance between them. Harry frowned at this, but he didn't mention it.

"What happens now? What happens to Remus, and to Professor Snape? What about me, and the war?" He asked, secretly fearing the worst.

Voldemort smiled gently. "Your wolf asked me the same questions only minutes ago. I will wage war on Dumbledore for betraying the most important people he has within his trust: mainly you, and Severus. You may do whatever you wish, and those you care about will come to no harm from me, simply because you care for them. I will do everything within my power to protect you, even if you are against me."

"Why?"

"You know the answer to that. Because I love you, almost obsessively." At Harry's startled look, he grinned. "Do not worry, little one; I do have a modicum of self-restraint."

"Why do you love me?"

"Because I do. You have given me my sanity back. You have gifted me with my wings, my second chance. And I will not waste that chance. I will do what I can to change the magical world, for it does need a change from the 'traditions' it has created over the centuries, and this time, I will not allow power to corrupt me again. I can recognize the signs of corruption, having witnessed them first hand, and I will not allow myself to be corrupted again. Because that would hurt you." Voldemort leaned forward, placing a feather-soft kiss on Harry's forehead before standing from his place at the side of the bed. "I should leave you to your recovery. Do you need anything while I am here?"

Harry looked away from Voldemort's crimson gaze, a brief almost smile flitting across his lips. "No. I should be all right. Thank you, though."

Voldemort nodded and started for the door, but he reached out to grab the door handle, he paused, and turned to face Harry, a speculative gleam in that crimson gaze.

"Would you allow me to... try something?" he asked, the question soft and barely heard.

Harry took a moment to think it over. He had a feeling, a hunch that whatever the Dark Lord wished to try was connected to his emotions for him, but he had his own emotional conflict as well. Harry knew that he was responding to the Dark Lord in a way he hadn't responded to anyone before, and he was confused, because he had a few emotions tied to the older wizard, as both a result of the positive and nurturing actions of the older wizard and his new insights he'd gained from the last few times he'd been conscious and aware, that he couldn't identify on his own. But he was quite willing to explore those emotions, to feel for a change, instead of pushing everything to the side.

He nodded and the Dark Lord smiled, moving closer to the bed. He helped Harry to sit up and settled at his side, slowly bringing a hand to gently caress the younger wizard's jaw. There was nothing but gentleness and love in his expression and in his eyes.

"Stop me if you feel the need to. I will not pressure you into anything you are not comfortable with." Again Harry nodded and Voldemort brought them closer and closer, until their lips met in the barest touch. The kiss was soft and careful as Voldemort kissed him, waiting for his reaction.

He didn't pull away, so the Dark Lord applied more pressure to the gesture, swiping his tongue across Harry's lips. The younger wizard's eyes fell shut as the sensations of the kiss aroused the emotions within him, bringing them into sharper focus.

Soon, he started responding to Voldemort's touch, as the Dark Lord was running one hand down his back in a rather soothing manner, keeping his other hand gently in place on his cheek. He pushed back against the man kissing him, returning the kiss as best he could. It wasn't like he had any experience before this.

Voldemort couldn't help but smirk at his inexperience, which was nearly painfully obvious, but he continued the gentle kiss, swiping with his tongue again across Harry's lips, this time slipping between and deepening the kiss with his tongue, tenderly exploring the small space that was open to him, drawing soft sighs from the younger wizard.

But soon, he knew that this small reprieve would have to do, because if he did anything else to the younger, still-recovering wizard, this very pleasant scenario could turn very ugly. So, reluctantly, Voldemort ended the kiss and drew away from Harry, and watched as the younger wizard regained his composure.

He stood up and leaned forward, catching Harry's forehead with his lips, placing a rather chaste kiss on his scar before bidding his guest good night and leaving the room. Harry could only stare after him, even as Remus and Severus came in.

"Harry? Is something wrong, cub?"

It took a moment before Harry turned his focus on Remus, a smile lighting up his features. "Everything's fine, Moony. I think... I'm going to be okay. Really."

Remus smiled fondly, and Severus seemed profoundly relieved, though he did well hiding most of his relief. "Is there anything you need right now? Anything at all?"

"Could you stay here until I fall asleep again?"

"Sure thing, cub. I can do that for you."

Severus stepped forward, a potion in hand. "Before you settle down to sleep and rest again, I just need to administer this to your chest and throat. It will help heal the damage done to your lungs and vocal cords."

Harry nodded, and allowed Severus to apply the potion across his chest, although he flinched a little at the first touch of the Potions Master's hands on his bare skin. He felt ashamed suddenly, because he knew that he was safe here, with his father. Although the idea of Severus being his father was still new to him, he knew the man would never hurt him, not even by accident.

It would still some time before he could get over his reflex, though.

It was all too soon that his thoughts started to blur as exhaustion crept up, forcing a yawn from him, and Harry succumbed to the blissful dark of sleep, with the soft strong touch of his father's hands soothing his injuries firm in his memory.

* * *

A/N: PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT MOST OF THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN TYPED OUT FOR AT LEAST A YEAR AND A HALF. I REALLY ONLY HAD TROUBLE WITH FINISHING THE CHAPTER, AND NOW I HOPE TO HAVE AN EASIER TIME WITH WRITING THE REST OF THE STORY WITH POSSIBLY LESS TIME BETWEEN UPDATES.

ON ANOTHER NOTE, I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IN REVIEWS, AND PLEASE DON'T LEAVE REVIEWS ASKING ME TO UPDATE, OR WHEN I'LL UPDATE. REAL LIFE GETS IN THE WAY OF MY WRITING A LOT, SO UPDATES WILL HAPPEN WHEN THEY HAPPEN.

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR ETERNAL PATIENCE.


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